


what could've been

by tallycravens



Series: Motherland: Fort Salem Oneshots [3]
Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:21:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25449772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tallycravens/pseuds/tallycravens
Summary: It’s been a year now since you lost her. You find yourself kneeling at her grave, tracing your fingers along her name and speaking gently in remembrance. You miss her more than you could have ever anticipated. It hurts just to think about her, despite how long it's been.//Post-finale. Abigail visits Libba's grave on the anniversary of her death.
Relationships: Abigail Bellweather/Libba Swythe
Series: Motherland: Fort Salem Oneshots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1868044
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	what could've been

She’s gone. It all happened so fast and nothing could have prepared you for this.

You were thrown into a situation with zero forethought and any one of you could’ve been killed. But it wasn’t any one of you. It was Libba Swythe. You would never wish that pain on anyone, but as you reflect on what happened, you continue to believe that it shouldn’t have been her that died that day.

You spent much of your life hating Libba, but in your time together at Fort Salem, you discovered a mutual respect for one another. Had things turned out differently, you’re almost certain you would be friends.

It’s been a year now since you lost her. You find yourself kneeling at her grave, tracing your fingers along her name and speaking gently in remembrance. You miss her more than you could have ever anticipated. It hurts just to think about her, despite how long it's been.

The two of you weren’t friends, but she was ever-present in your life. It’s like you said at her funeral, she was the stone that sharpened your blade. You wouldn’t be who you are today without her. She made you stronger, made you work harder, to be better than her.

_ “Abigail Bellweather?” _

When you hear your name, you lift your head and meet her gaze. Libba’s mother. It makes sense she’s come to pay her respects, just as you have. You say hello and give her a sad smile, turning to walk away to give the grieving mother her privacy.

She places her flowers on Libba’s grave, then grabs your shoulder before you can get very far.

“I have something for you,” she says, and you don’t understand what it could be or how she could've known that you'd be here, too.

She pulls an envelope out of her purse and hands it to you. Your name is written on the front in Libba’s unmistakable chicken scratch. Just seeing her handwriting takes you back to another time. You remember making fun of her for her shitty penmanship, and her mocking your 'too perfect' script. God, the two of you couldn't have been more different, yet, weirdly, the same.

“They found this with her things back at Fort Salem. I never opened it, because it's addressed to you.  I don’t know what’s in it. I’m sorry I waited so long, but I wasn’t sure if I should give it to you.”

You have tears in your eyes as you trace your own name, nodding your head and swallowing the lump in your throat. “Thank you. It’s probably a hate letter,” you joke, wiping your eyes. “I miss her every day. What I wouldn’t give to hear one more Libba Swythe insult.”

“You and me both," she bows her head and you can see the pain written plainly on her face, as she recalls, "She died with honor. I know that’s supposed to be a comfort to me, but it isn’t. She deserved so much more.” She’s crying and you feel awkward, not certain if you should comfort her or not. You linger, your hand on her elbow, then she takes it upon herself to hug you.

You’re not big on hugs, but you're not a monster, so you wrap your arms around her anyway, sighing as she sobs against your chest. The letter feels heavy in your hands and the thought of opening it scares you. You’ve already said your farewells. You’re curious, of course, but this is a new kind of goodbye. It feels like the wound is about to rip back open again, and you’re already feeling raw and tender from the anniversary of her death.

After a while, Libba’s mother pulls away. You tell her to reach out any time, then meet your unit waiting for you at the entrance to the cemetery. 

“What’s that?” Tally asks, noticing the letter in your hands. You tell them both about your exchange with Libba’s mother as you return to campus together.

War College. It’s everything you thought it would be and more. You’re thriving and your unit is at the top of the class. You think you couldn’t be happier, but as you sit at the edge of your bunk staring at the envelope in your hands, you realize that you could be.

Libba could be here right now, making you roll your eyes. You could be training together, one upping each other’s battle moves. But she’s gone and all that’s left is this. Her final goodbye.

You’re not ready. Maybe you never will be.

The envelope gets stuffed in the back of your desk and almost forgotten until several months later, when you’re searching for an extra pen after yours runs out of ink. It has found its way to you again and this time, though your hands shake at the thought, you think you can handle this.

Slowly you slide the monogrammed letter opener your mother gave you beneath the seal of the envelope, then open it, unfolding the letter within.

Your work is forgotten on the desk as you read over Libba’s words.

_ Abigail, _

_ I keep writing these letters I know I’ll never send. I can never find the right words to explain it, and I know if you ever discovered the truth, you’d be disgusted. But I need to tell you, even if it’s on paper. Even if you never read it. This is too much for me, and I need to get it out. I can’t focus and I can’t keep letting this distraction make me fall behind. _

_ So, here I go — _

_ I think that I might be in love with you. No, I know how crazy it sounds. You  _ **_make_ ** _ me crazy. You always have. It’s like when I’m around you all I can hear is my blood pumping through my veins. My heart is always racing and there’s no other logical explanation. I’m never kind to you and I think this is the real reason why. I just can’t bear being around you and it’s not because I hate you. It's exactly the opposite. _

_ I’ve never felt this way before, and it scares me. I know my parents would never approve because of your family name. I also know you don’t see me as anything but a rival. Not as a friend, and definitely not as anything more.  _ _ I can’t pretend to believe we’ll ever be together that way.  _

_ I admire you more than I’ve ever let on. Yeah, you’re a Bellweather. God knows, I’ve heard you say it enough times. But you’re more than that to me. You’re Abigail. You’re the best at all you do and that’s not because of your name. It’s because you work hard, harder than anyone. You inspire me every day to be better. I’ll never hold a candle to you, Abigail, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying to deserve you. _

_ I’m sorry. Sorry for the way I’ve treated you. The way I stole your Cavalier on your debut, just to be a bitch. The way I told everyone you wet the bed at our sleepover in grade school and continued to call you Bedwetter ever since. I said so many awful things to you. I try not to, but the words just come out and I don’t even mean them. It’s like I’m trying to overcompensate for my feelings. I don’t think I could handle it if you knew. My insults are like my armor, keeping you at a distance because the truth is, I'm scared. _

_ You’d be so disgusted, wouldn’t you? If you knew how often I’ve dreamed of kissing you, how I can’t come when I touch myself unless I’m thinking of you. You’re beautiful, frustrating, strong, stubborn, intelligent, arrogant, independent. You are  _ **_everything_ ** _. _

_ You’re going to make a great leader. I know I’d follow you anywhere. _

_ Maybe one day we can be friends. I’d like that. I won’t ask anything more of you, I swear. I know that you could never return my feelings. I can get over this, and I will. But I want you in my life, Abigail. I know we’ll both be better for it. _

_ I’ll probably tear up this letter and burn it, just like all the others. But I’ll hold on to it for a little while, just in case I change my mind. _

_ Yours, _

_ Libba _

  
  


The letter is dated two days before her death. Two days. You don’t even realize you’re crying until you taste the salt on your lips. You are in shock, her words coming out of nowhere. You never knew she felt anything for you but contempt. You knew she was a good liar, but... _wow._ You don’t know what to make of this. You're stunned into silence and disarray.

You reread her confession again, trying to convince yourself that it’s real. When you hear footsteps stop outside the door, you scramble to put the letter away. It’s Tally, and you realize you’re relieved it isn’t Raelle because it’s obvious you’ve been crying. Wordlessly she pulls you into her arms, knowing what you need before you do and before you know it, you’re sobbing against her.

She never asks and you never tell her what you’ve been crying about. It’s a secret you want to keep to yourself. A secret between you and Libba that is only yours, one you can't bring yourself to share.

You begin sleeping with the letter under your pillow, reading it under the covers every night before you go to sleep.  You wish she was still here. More than anything, you wish she would’ve told you.  _Maybe,_ you think as the ink smudges beneath your fingertip , _you loved her too._ Otherwise, why does this hurt so much? Why else would you miss her like this?

You’ll never know what could’ve been. That’s what hurts the most.

  
  
  



End file.
